


naked and breathless

by candyharlot



Series: SASO 2017 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Chair Bondage, Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Deepthroating, Feels, I Am A Joke, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyharlot/pseuds/candyharlot
Summary: Kageyama is just as miserable as he is aroused. His chest aches from breathing so hard, his wrists are sore as they strain against the rope binding him to the chair, sweat is leaking into his eyes, making his hair stick to his forehead; he’s been here for what feels like hours but he knows it’s only been thirty minutes because that’s what the alarm clock on Oikawa’s bedside table indicates.What was it Oikawa told him before they started their session?Time doesn’t exist here, Tobio-chan.It doesn’t exist.





	naked and breathless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wildcard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildcard/gifts).



> written for BR2 of SASO 2017. inspired by this prompt >> http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/22249.html?thread=12036073#cmt12036073
> 
> it was only supposed to be for square C3 of the prompt but i Hecked Up  
>  ~~I ALSO HECKED UP BECAUSE THIS SONG IS ABOUT HATEFUCKING AND I WROTE _THIS_~~

“Naked and breathless,” Oikawa muses. He hooks his index finger under Kageyama’s chin and lifts it until their gazes are level. “Could you live with the disgrace, Tobio-chan? If Chibi-chan were to walk through that door right now? What about Glasses? Do you think he'd be disgusted? Or impressed?”

_(Could you live? Could you live? Could you live with this?)_

Kageyama focuses on the soft, rhythmic _thud-thud_ of Oikawa tapping the ball of his foot against the hardwood floor as he tries to gather his words and form them into something coherent. “I don’t care,” he tries to say, but his voice betrays him and breaks. He growls under his breath.

“Hmmm.” Oikawa smooths his thumb along Kageyama’s bottom lip as he considers. Kageyama resists the urge to bite it. Sure, he and Tsukishima have started tolerating each other more since entering college, but that’s it. “You know, I think it might be the former. He has a bit of a sultry look about him, don’t you think?”

_(If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?)_

“Tch.” Kageyama jerks his head away – or at least, he attempts to. Oikawa’s grip in his hair suddenly becomes a vice and he drags Kageyama’s head back until it knocks against the back of the chair he’s tied to.

Kageyama is just as miserable as he is aroused _._ His chest aches from breathing so hard, his wrists ache as they strain against the rope binding him to the chair, sweat is leaking into his eyes, making his hair stick to his forehead; he’s been here for what feels like _hours_ but he knows it’s only been thirty minutes because that’s what the alarm clock on Oikawa’s bedside table indicates.

What was it Oikawa told him before they started their session? _Time doesn’t exist here, Tobio-chan._

It doesn’t exist.

Kageyama closes his eyes and tries to relax, tries to slow his breathing like he would before launching into a jump serve. He also tries to ignore Oikawa’s fingers invading his mouth, pressing down on the back of his tongue, but it’s too much too fast – his entire body convulses when Oikawa starts moving them in and out.

“Open your eyes, Tobio. Look at me.”

Kageyama doesn’t realize he’s obeyed the command until he’s staring directly into Oikawa’s lust-darkened eyes with his own watery ones. Kageyama blinks the tears away; they stream down his face as he closes his mouth around the digits, sucking on them in the way Oikawa instructed him to do it, during their first “session.”

(“Suck on them. Imagine you’re drinking out of one of those dinky milk cartons you like so much.”

“What? I don’t drink those anymore.”

“Fine, then imagine you’re sucking my cock. Can you at least do _that_ , Tobio-chan?”)

Oikawa’s expression is otherwise composed as he stares down at Kageyama; there’s a tight grin etched into the corner of his mouth that reminds Kageyama of a mousetrap, ready to snap at any second. His heart skips a beat when he swallows wetly around Oikawa’s fingers, not breaking eye contact even when the obscene noise fills the tense air between them.

Kageyama bites down just hard enough to leave indentions on Oikawa’s knuckles. He’s rewarded by Oikawa’s grin faltering, his eyes clouding over. “Lewd, Tobio-chan,” he chides, but Kageyama can see the dark flush that’s creeping up Oikawa’s neck; the vein pulsing in his temple in time with his rapid heartbeat. “What am I going to do with you?”

_(So many things that I would do if I had my way with you.)_

Kageyama starts sucking Oikawa’s fingers with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, being tied up as tightly as he is – the chair creaks precariously with the movement – until finally Oikawa lets out a frustrated, choked-out groan and yanks his hand away. Kageyama watches in a daze, not even caring about the rogue spittle dripping down his chin, as Oikawa wipes his hand off on his sweatpants.

_Oh._

Hot coals burn under Kageyama’s skin; he shifts in the chair as Oikawa reaches down and adjusts his erection through his sweatpants. It’s the only piece of clothing he has on – he didn’t have a shirt on when Kageyama arrived over two hours ago and apparently he never bothered with underwear, either.

Kageyama’s own dick twitches against his hip. It’s an infuriating reminder of how hard he’s been this entire afternoon and how he hasn’t been touched _once,_ other than a teasing stroke while Oikawa was undressing him. A throaty growl escapes as he wiggles his hips, desperate for some sort of friction but there’s nothing – _nothing_ to be done except trust Oikawa.

It’s a terrifying concept.

Oikawa starts stroking himself languidly through the thin gray fabric. “What is it, Tobio-chan?” he croons, tilting his head to the side. His breathing hitches on a soft moan as his grip tightens. “Use your words.”

Kageyama’s gaze flickers to the floor before returning to Oikawa’s face. He tilts his chin up, resolute. “I want…” His frown deepens. “It _."_

Oikawa’s thin eyebrows rise into his bangs. “Oh, Tobio.” He shakes his head fondly and reaches forward, smoothing back Kageyama’s hair from his brow. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, I’m afraid. What is it you want? Tell me and I might be able to help.”

A muscle twitches in Kageyama’s jaw at Oikawa’s condescending tone. He tries not to glance down again but he can’t help it – it’s so _mesmerizing_ , seeing the outline of Oikawa’s cock as it twitches against the fabric.

“In my mouth,” he blurts out, much louder than intended. He squeezes his eyes shut as the words echo in the tense air between them. “I...want it in my mouth. I want to—to taste it. Please _,_ Oikawa-san.”

Kageyama’s words die in his throat when the head of Oikawa’s cock prods against his bottom lip. A few months ago, Kageyama would have been too humiliated by his current position and too angry about how much he craves this sort of thing to do anything about it, but he’s past that now.

Much like Oikawa seems to be past the petty grudge from their grade school days. At least...on his good days.

“Mmmm. You’re being so, so good for me today, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa moans from somewhere above him, his hand resting gently on the crown of Kageyama’s head, fingers toying with the fine strands of hair. Kageyama doesn’t even open his eyes, doesn’t _need_ to as he takes all of Oikawa into his mouth, flattening his tongue against the underside of Oikawa’s shaft. He almost chokes when Oikawa’s hips stutter but settles into a rhythm soon enough.

“Oh god, Tobio. That’s it… Just like that. Don’t stop _.”_ Oikawa’s panting now, ragged and erratic. “Do you want me to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? Hm? Is that what you want?”

Kageyama moans around the head of Oikawa’s cock as it nudges the back of his throat. He attempts to nod but it’s – it’s difficult. Oikawa’s cock is swelling in his mouth as Kageyama hollows out his cheeks. His tingling fingers twitch with the desire to grab Oikawa’s hips so he can move faster, bring him to orgasm like he has several times before.

He hates himself a little for how damned _accomplished_ he feels every time that happens. The rush is almost as good as the one he gets whenever one of the spikes he tossed for lands with a resounding _smack_ on the opposite side of the court.

Almost as good as it felt to see Oikawa’s face when he did that setter dump back in high school.

Oikawa tightens his grip on Kageyama’s head, nails raking along his scalp, and presses in further until there’s a soft _click_ as the head of his cock slips the rest of the way down Kageyama’s throat.

“ _Tobio_ ,” Oikawa says in a lilting, breathy whine, and Kageyama’s so used to him sounding harsh during these moments that it sends a tremor through him. Tears spring to his eyes as his throat constricts. “Do you want my come? Are you willing to work for it?”

 _Yes_. Kageyama nods, the tip of his nose brushing against the fine, dark hair dusting Oikawa’s crotch.

It doesn’t take long. Kageyama leans back in his chair and Oikawa holds him steady as he starts face-fucking him in earnest – hard and fast at first before eventually staggering into erratic, shallow thrusts of his hips, his high-pitched, broken moans filling the room. Kageyama recognizes the rhythm – it’s similar to how he fucked Kageyama for the first time against the wall of the Chuo University locker room all those months ago.

The memory of that match and its aftermath, combined with the taste and sensation of Oikawa’s hot, thick come filling his mouth, spilling down his throat, the sound of Oikawa crying out his name, pushes Kageyama over the edge of a cliff he doesn’t even realize he was standing on until it’s too late. He comes with a muffled whimper around Oikawa’s softening cock, jerking against the rope as he tries desperately to fuck into thin air. It’s _painful_ , coming like this, without being able to touch himself, but the pain is so good that he never wants it to end.

But it does, like all good things, and everything fades to black.

\---

There’s an airy chuckle somewhere above him and he opens his eyes. Oikawa’s running his fingers through Kageyama’s hair, tucking the same strand behind his ear over and over again. The gesture makes Kageyama’s chest feel funny. Heavy, almost. Tight.

He edges away from where he was resting his forehead against Oikawa’s hip, a frown worried between his brows. “Oikawa-san,” he mumbles. “I need to—”

Oikawa kneels down with a sigh. “Patience, Tobio-chan.”

“Sorry.”

Kageyama’s chin drops onto his chest as he waits for freedom. He worries his teeth over his bottom lip as Oikawa makes quick work of loosening the ropes around his ankles and wrists. Once he’s finished, he kneels down in front of Kageyama and inspects him thoroughly like he does after all of their sessions, making sure he didn’t leave any noticeable bruises during their play. That was one of the agreements they made at the beginning of this: no obvious marks.

Then Oikawa looks up, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes with a genuine, crooked grin on his face, and Kageyama actually forgets how to breathe.

“Did you enjoy your afternoon, Tobio-chan?” Oikawa yawns. “I was surprised to see you come like that – you didn’t tell me that was one of your tricks. I feel _cheated._ ”

Kageyama flexes his fingers until he regains all sensation. “It’s never happened like that before,” he says. “Everything just felt… Really good. I don’t know how else to explain it.” After a moment spent glaring at his lap, his gaze flickers back to Oikawa’s face. “Did you enjoy yourself as well, Oikawa-san?”

Oikawa’s eyes widen a fraction and then he turns his back on Kageyama with a scoff. “Of course,” he replies in a flippant tone as he pulls a shirt over his head. “I always enjoy playing with my beloved Tobio-chan. Especially when he tries so hard to please me.”

Kageyama blinks, cheeks burning. “Right,” he says. “I’m glad. That we can… Um.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Do this. It’s nice.”

Oikawa doesn’t reply, but tosses another one of his t-shirts to Kageyama, who catches it with one hand.

And stares at it.

“For you,” Oikawa calls over his shoulder before he disappears into the kitchenette of his apartment. “Since I ripped your other one earlier. Oops! You can give it back to me next time we meet, if you want.”

Kageyama eyes the tattered old shirt on the floor and then the shirt crumpled up in his hands. He lifts it up to his face and inhales Oikawa’s overly sweet, yet fresh scent before setting it down on the bed. He needs to shower before he wears anything.

Later, as Oikawa draws a lavender bath for them (“You’re disgusting, Tobio-chan!”), Kageyama decides that if enjoying this arrangement makes him a “disgrace,” he is willing to live with that.

\---


End file.
